End of the Year Teachable Tuesday

Today is the last Tuesday for the year and I have to admit I am so glad. Tomorrow starts final exams for all students. Today, Seniors were given their exams for 3rd and 4th block. They will be finished tomorrow. We have some that will be back with us again next year. It has been a frustrating day. I had a graduating senior tell me today that he felt sorry for me....sorry? I asked...why? He told me he felt sorry for me because I am stagnant. I never move on....I smiled and told him....he was so wrong....I move on every year....with every student I have taught. I move on with them....because they carry part of me with them....I am like a river....flowing continuously....adding other rivers to me....growing....I have never been stagnant in my life......and then...poor Sam, across the hall came into my room crying. The day was more than she could handle. Teachers have been snapping at teachers, students have been hateful, ugly, and disrespectful. I don't know what has been going on....but this is the worst end of the year I can ever remember in the 23 years I have taught. But enough of that. Today's quotation is:
"You learn something every day if you pay attention." by Ray LeBlond. What a powerful statement. You can learn....but you have to pay attention first! So as my seniors leave the hallowed halls of BRHS and the juniors become next years seniors....and the underclassmen move up the ladder of time....I want to leave them for the summer with this thought. Pay attention guys...and learn!

The Duck Tool

The task I was faced with: putting the new license plates on the car



That would be the new Honda Insight by the way. A hybrid. This totally makes up for the fact that I still use plastic bags. Sorry. I try to remember to bring my mesh bags but I forget since I usually have a screeching two year old at my side.

Anyhow, usually my husband changes the license plates. But my husband isn’t here. So I had to do it. Before he left he showed me the tool that I needed to use. For some reason it reminded me of a duck.

“So use the duck tool. Check,” I said.

Tom looked confused as he eyed the tool he was holding. “The duck tool?” He pulled a horrified expression because heaven forbid a woman refer to a man tool as an animal.

On Sunday I tucked the new license plates under my arm and headed out to the garage to find the duck tool. I thought Tom had left it in his tool chest.

But it wasn’t there and okay, I started to panic. I opened and re-opened the drawers and may have uttered some naughty words.



I marched back in the house and dialed Tom’s number.

“Where is the duck tool?” I boomed when he picked up.

“Do you ever say hello first?” came Tom’s response. “You can’t just call someone and---"

“THE DUCK TOOL!”

I’m sorry but it was hot that day and I was nervous about putting the plates on. I had very little patience.

“It’s not a duck tool. The WRENCH is in its case,” Tom replied.

“Thanks,” I said and hung up.

I went to the wrench case and found what I was looking for. Tom had even set it up with the correct size. Phew.



Then I headed for the car and took a deep breath. This is it. I can do this. The screws came off easily and I began to feel quite pleased with myself.

I am woman. Watch me change my own license plates. Oh and hear me roar.

I even emitted a roaring noise which made my neighbor raise an eyebrow at me. He was spraying his yard with weed killer and I guess he’s not used to women roaring in his presence.

I got the new license plate in place and started tightening the screws. Only nothing was happening. I’d twist and twist and the screws were not tightening.

I jumped to my feet, threw my hands in the air and muttered, "What the fuck?"

An amused grin played at the corner of my neighbor's lips as he sprayed a huge chunk of weeds.

Then my eye caught something. A black toggle on the back of the duck tool. Hrm.

I decided to press that down and guess what? After I did that, the tool tightened the screws.

Well, excuse me! I thought it was just there for decoration. There are always extra pieces of STUFF on purses and shoes. For decoration. But now that I think of it, I imagine tools don't have decorations because they're boring.



I was so thrilled with myself for figuring it out that I didn't even notice the buzzing sound beside me. I was happily tightening the screws and thinking to myself, "If I can do this, I can do anything! Lalala."

"There's a bee on your shoe," my neighbor called out.

How nice. A bee on my shoe, most likely praising me for--

WHAT?

THERE'S A BEE ON MY SHOE?

I took off across the yard, waving my hands over my head wildly and screaming at the top of my lungs. In the process I also started kicking off my shoes and they flew across the driveway.

"BEEEEEEEEEE! BEEEEEEEEEEEE!" I screeched.

The neighorhood kids, including my son, were all clustered in the middle of the cul de sac. They all tossed me bewildered looks as I raced across the yard.

Then I realized that I probably looked like a complete wimp and forced myself to calm down.

But look, I've been stung before and it HURT. Of course I should be telling myself that since I was able to push two kids from my junk then surely I should be able to endure a bee sting.

But, see, with my kids I had a lovely thing called an epidural.

I pretended that I hadn't just made a complete fool of myself and calmly walked over to my abandoned shoes.

"Thank you for letting me know," I told the neighbor with a sharp nod of my head.

I pretended that I didn't hear the neighborhood kids (including my son!) laughing at me. I just went back to the task on hand and tried to forget that I had just streaked across my yard.

I moved to the back of the car and removed our temporary plates. This was a little difficult because of the trunk handle. I couldn't twist the wrench around because it bumped into the handle. So this took a little longer.



I refused to put the license plate holders back on though. I am NOT the dealerships free advertisement. Sorry. Last I checked, they weren't making a contribution to my car payments. So I will not display their name unless they want to send me a fee.



But the bottom line is that I did it! By myself! No man.

Awesome.

Another Musical Monday

Musical Monday is a brainchild of Jori and Diane's. This month they have chosen movie titles but I have a mission today and therefore I am going to hang onto songs that move you another Monday. I will start the movies songs next week. It is the end of the school year....so humor me please. My song today is one that being of Irish heritage really touches my soul and after watching the season finale of Extreme Home Makeover last night....I am reminded that we must lift up...as we rise up! So...tell me, what song moves you today?

Summer Preparation and Giveaways

Wow....I have one more week until summer. I can't believe it is finally here. Summer to me is better than Christmas....because....well...it lasts longer. I had a parent tell me last week at a bridal shower....that teachers make way too much money for what little time they work...and in her opinion had a high opinion of themselves...I almost choked on the finger sandwich I was chewing...number one. I get paid a salary. I chose many years ago...to have that said salary divided up into 12 monthly installments so I could keep my insurance benefits in tact....and number two...where did she get off telling me I made too much money for what little time I work....she is a nurse...who works on seven and off seven....and makes way more money than I do...with a bachelor's degree in nursing....to my master's in education.....and do that math....seven on and seven off...is ummmmm....let me figure this out....6 months! I steamed on that one for a few days....and then remembered....summer is just around the corner...and then...this morning I got up and found my good teacher buddy Trina has a give away going...whooo hooo I thought....a candle called Butt something....interesting...she swears it smells like coconuts....and a great read....coozies....all I need for a day at someone's pool....or someone's lake house.....or if worse comes to worse...my back yard with the sprinkler on. All that will matter then....is that school is out....all my tests are graded....all the projects are finished....and I can start going to the school a couple of days a week later...August will be here soon enough....but for right now...let me just bask in the face that it is summer...the sun is going to come out...I am going to get in it....and on Thursdays....I am going to be a frugal fashionista and I am going to post Thrifty Thursdays for my friend Leigh....I am going Thrift store shopping with Mary...I am going to travel a bit with my buddies...I am going to write a few songs....I am going to sing a bit...but most of all I am going to recoup....so that when August gets here...I will be ready to go again. Have a great weekend to all. Don't forget to enter Trina's giveaway. Oh...and tell her Karen sent you.

Gray Skies are Gonna Clear Up?

I thought Thursday was a bad day....and today I was reading Last Shreds of Sanity and discovered that bad days are out there for us all. I live in Alabama....with my husband and parents(whom I am taking care of)....this blogging friend lives in California....and her brother is right here in Alabama...and needs help. He, like many others who are affiliated with schools, was axed this week...and he also lost his second job. I wish my readers would visit the link I left above and read Baby Roca's Mama's story about her brother. I would die to know I was so far away from my brother...and could not help. Heck....when I was growing up in South Florida...and my grandmother was so sick....I quit school to come and help take care of her. I am all about some family. If I can't do anything else....I will pray for them. It is everywhere....I got my retirement statement this week....they took 300.00 of my money....but I lost 327.00....and I play it safe with mine....no gambling on the stock market for me....and then there is my friend Brian...he owns a Chevrolet, Dodge and Jeep dealership. He has a wife and set of twins to support...and they closed a large number of dealerships in Alabama...I was glad to see that Brian made it through the first round safely....but so many did not....dealerships that have been around longer than I am old....it is sad to see what is happening. I have students who draw checks, WIC, food stamps, medicaid, etc...for children they have had....and even that is in danger. Ever since 911 we have been struggling....the terrorists hurt more than some buildings....and wrecked more than some families lives...I truly believe that they were the beginning of this downslide...and I don't know about you....but I don't want this great country to fail....I want it to be strong again. Ok...so I went from asking you to read a post about someones brother....to soapboxing about America....what can I say....I believe it is all tied together....and I want my country back! God Bless You all this weekend! Stay Safe...and spend time with the ones you love.

So Much For Being Nice

That’s it!

I’m finished watching season finales. They only overexcite me and it’s probably not healthy for my heart to race like that.

I watched Grey’s Anatomy last night and for those who don’t know, it’s a doctor show where everyone looks like they’ve stepped out of a J Crew catalogue.

Anyhow, it appears like two people are now dead on the show and the underlying theme of the finale was that you should always tell people that you love them because you never know if they’re going to croak.

I started to think of my husband Tom, who is on TDY at a military dog training school. Suppose he died? Suppose he got a brain tumor like one of the doctors on Grey’s Anatomy? Maybe that’s why he can never remember to put his dirty clothes in the hamper! Because the tumor is blocking his ability to do so!

I started to panic.

So I dialed his number and waited.

“Hello?” came Tom’s groggy voice.

“Tom! I just wanted you to know that I love you!” I blurted out.

“Who IS this?” Tom demanded.

“It’s Amber! I just wanted you to know that I love you!” I repeated. I mean, it’s hot in Texas. He could pass out from the heat. Suppose a polar bear got loose from Sea World and eats him? Oh my gosh, his dog could turn into Cujo and bite out his throat!

“Amber. Is something wrong? Are the kids—” Tom began, sounding alert.

“The kids are fine. I just wanted you to know that I love you,” I said calmly. What part of this was he not comprehending? All he had to say was thank you, I love you, too.

“It’s MIDNIGHT! I have class tomorrow! Are you telling me that you woke me up just to tell me that you LOVE me?” Tom sounded incredulous, which makes sense because the man really doesn’t have a romantic bone in his body. To him, being romantic is when he warns me that he’s about to fart so I’m able to flee the room and not be keeled over from the noxious gases that emits from his body.

Still, I couldn’t snap at him. Because again, what if he died? What if the last words he heard from me were, “Yes, you asshole, I’m calling to say that I love you because I want you to know how much you MEAN to me. You insensitive jerk.”

I swallowed those harsh words back.

“I called to say that I love you because you never know what is going to happen. I mean, first Izzie gets a brain tumor, then George---” I began.

“Amber! Who is Izzie? Who is George? You’re not making ANY sense,” Tom’s impatient voice cut through my thoughts.

Oh. Right. He doesn’t watch Grey’s Anatomy. He’s caught a few episodes and makes fun of the fact that someone always starts to cry. He thinks they all need to buck up.

“It doesn’t matter who they are,” I quickly said. “I just wanted you to know—” I tried again.

“Are they from a TV show? Amber, I told you to stop watching so much TV. You know it upsets you,” Tom interrupted with a sigh.

He’s right. I get too invested in characters and am still pissed off at NBC for canceling this fantastic show called American Dreams.

“Sorry,” I said meekly. “But I did want to tell you that I love you. I didn’t mean to wake you. I’ll let you go now.” I was about to press the hang up button but then Tom’s voice rang out.

“Thank you. I do appreciate it but do you think you can tell me you love me during the day?” Tom wondered.

I smiled. “Deal,” I promised and then added, "But just so you know, I'd love you even if your dog chews your face up."

"I'm going to go now," Tom said and then I heard a click followed by the dial tone.

Okay then.

Honestly, I Had To...

I’m sorry.

I had to do it.

I was going to lose my mind.

He’ll be okay, right? He’ll get over it.

The truth is I shouldn’t have bought it in the first place.

But it was 75% off. It’s really difficult for me not to buy something that is marked 75% off.

It’s why one of my kitchen cupboards is stuffed with packages of pens.

It’s why I bought a baseball mitt and bat which confused my husband Tom when he found them sitting on the garage shelf.

“You don’t play,” he pointed out.

“I might. Someday,” I answered wistfully. “I may wake up one day and decide that I’m in the mood to play baseball.” I gave a sharp nod as my husband stared at the mitt in confusion.

“But....you’ve always said that you’re awful in sports. I mean, when we played tennis that one time you shrieked every time the ball came in your direction,” Tom reminded me.

Well excuse me! It’s a little scary when you see a yellow object whizzing towards your head! Am I supposed to just STAND there and let it smack me in the face?

“You’re supposed to HIT it,” Tom told me dryly.

So yes. I have issues with saying no to 75% off things.

I should never have bought it in the first place. I know this now.

Why did I buy it?

Why did I buy this?



I think back to when I spotted it at Target, hanging on the shelf, all alone. I tend to feel sorry for inanimate things. Once I bought a bag of okra because everyone else was going for the corn and the peas and the okra was sitting there like, “What’s wrong with me? Why is no one buying me?”

So I bought it.

And I learned that I did not like okra.

But still. I felt like I did a good deed even though the only thing I did was purchase a vegetable that tasted like leather.

I also bought the recorder because I had read that there is a chance that playing a musical instrument can raise the IQ a few points. As I stood there gazing at the instrument, I pictured Tommy being rejected from the college of his choice because he missed a perfect SAT score by a few points. Then I’d be thinking, “Oh no! Would he have gotten those points had I bought him that recorder? It’s all my fault!” Then Tommy would refuse to talk to me and it would all be because of some woodwind musical instrument.

So into the cart the recorder went and I gave it to Tommy for his birthday. He wasn’t interested at first. When he opened it he wrinkled his nose and said, “What’s THIS?” in a horrified tone.

“A recorder,” I said grandly. “I played the recorder in elementary school.”

But by the time I explained that to him he was already opening his next gift.

A month flew by and Tommy was suddenly was eager to try out his recorder. He took it out of the package and....

...okay, I’m sorry, but the noise that he made sounded like a pissed off banshee.

It was awful.

He blew into it with all of his might and the neighborhood dog started to howl along with him.

He played for an hour straight.

“Maybe you should give it a rest!” I shouted over the noise hopefully. My eardrums felt like they were about to explode and I was paranoid that Natalie would go deaf since she has such tiny ears.

Tommy has been playing the thing every single day.

I started to feel like I was going to lose my mind.

So yesterday I hid it when he went to school.

When he came home he looked around for his recorder.

“Oh,” I said. “I had to take it to get fixed. I, er, stepped on it. It cracked.”

I know lying is bad. But I swear, if I had to sit through the squeaking one more day I honestly felt like I was going to snatch the recorder from Tommy’s hands and throw it out the window.

“The recorder told me he wanted to fly,” I imagined myself saying to Tommy as I tossed it out.

But Tommy is seven now and he doesn’t believe things like that. Plus, that sort of behavior will send him to a therapist's couch when he's in his twenties and he'll be asked to pinpoint the moment when he first felt betrayal and he'll be all, "Well, there was this time when my Mom threw my recorder out the window...."

So for his mental wellbeing, I had to fib.

Tommy wasn’t pleased when I told him but he accepted it. I’m hoping that he’ll forget all about it.

Please tell me that I’m not the only one who has hidden stuff from their kids.

I swear, I’ll give it back.

I just need a few days to....recoup.

And relish in the fact that my home doesn’t sound like twenty angry monkeys live here.